“Why would someone leave a perfectly good rod and reel on a sandbar in the middle of nowhere?” The thing about Mia being so closed-mouthed was that when she finally spoke, everyone stopped talking and listened.
“I reckon whoever was using it hooked into something big,” Doc said. “Probably had the thing ripped out of their hands. Then, whatever was on the other end of the line spit out the hook. The current eventually pushed the entire rig back onto the beach.”
“I don’t carewhyit’s here,” Cami stated emphatically. “I never look a gift horse in the mouth. This rod and reel are the first good thing to happen to us all day. Well...” She smiled cattily. “The first good thing to happen tome, anyway.The first good thing to happen toyouguys was getting to know me.”
“Please.” Doc rolled his eyes. “You might be the reason we’re all in this mess.”
“This old argument again?” Cami huffed. “It’s far more likelyyou’rethe reason we’re all in this mess and—”
Romeo sighed and shoved to a stand, having had enough of Tweedle Drinks Too Much and Tweedle Can’t Stop Rising to the Bait. Wiggling his fingers toward the rod in Cami’s hand and the lure in Doc’s, he said, “I guess I better get to fishing. Cami?” The lady lawyer looked at him expectantly. “Mia will teach you how to weave palm fronds. Doc?” His partner looked at himlessexpectantly. “How about you stay out of the way and try not to pick any more fights?”
“Me?” Doc blinked innocently. “Pick fights? Never.”
Romeo made a face before gesturing again toward the fishing equipment. Cami handed over the rod and reel no problem. Doc, who’d always been bad at following orders—for fuck’s sake, the man barely took suggestions—was less cooperative.
“Would it kill you to say please?” There was a familiar gleam in Doc’s eyes.
“What did Ijustsay about picking fights?” Romeo demanded.
“Fine.” Doc passed him the lure. “I’m just pointing out that there are nicer ways for you to ask for things. No need to be a demanding asshole.”
Romeo turned to Mia. “See? Itoldyou my friends call me nasty names on the reg.”
In typical Mia fashion, she was back to smiling with her mouth closed.
Then, because he couldn’t help himself, and because he was dying to get a reaction out of her, he added, “And later on, I’d like for us to revisit that last thing we were...uh...discussingbefore these two bozos interrupted us.”
“Hey!” Cami harrumphed. “I take exception to being lumped into the bozo category with—”
He stopped listening because Mia’s eyes had grown to the size of gun range targets, and her cheeks flamed so hot he was surprised her hair didn’t catch on fire. The way she licked her lips told him everything he needed to know.
She was glad he’d kissed her—even though, as far as his kisses went, it hadn’t come close to counting as his best work—and she was looking forward to more.
Despite the loss of the Otter, despite them being stranded on a desert island, and despite the ever-present prospect that someone might have tried to kill them, there was a definite skip to his step as he made his way out to the beach to catch them some dinner.
Chapter 12
3:44 PM...
“So...” Cami said leadingly.
Mia looked over at the lawyer in question, but she got distracted from askingSo what?by Cami’s contribution to their shelter.
She thought she’d been precise in her instructions on how to keep the weave tight. But she must’ve left out a step or something, because Cami’s loose, lumpy creation didn’t look anything like the mats she and Romeo had made. In fact, Cami’s attempt at a mat looked more like a lopsided net.
It crossed Mia’s mind that if Romeo’s rod and reel didn’t work, they just might be able to put Cami’s palm frond net theory to the test.
When Cami saw the direction of her gaze, she sighed. “I probably should’ve warned you the reason I decided to make a living using my mouth is that when it comes to using my hands, I’m all thumbs.”
Mia rolled in her lips to contain a laugh. “Hence the desire to become a ventriloquist instead of taking piano lessons.”
“Exactly.” Cami nodded. “I figured out what my strengths wereveryearly in life. Unfortunately, it took my mother a little longer to catch on. She made me continue with piano for four years until my teacher finally told her I could take lessons for the nextfortyyears and still not progress much past ‘Chopsticks.’”
“Nothing wrong with a good rendition of ‘Chopsticks,’” Mia assured her.
Cami snorted and started pulling apart the leaflets.
“Starting over?” Mia asked.
